


Spark A Change

by iCheat



Series: Steter Week 2017 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Stiles Stilinski, Canonical Character Death, Day 1, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles, Steter Week, belated, might continue later, season 1 rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCheat/pseuds/iCheat
Summary: When Stiles was little his mother told him they were special and they should respect the Alpha. As Stiles grew up he realized that not all Alpha's deserved respect. He's going to make sure the next Beacon Hills Alpha is worth it.Day 1 of my belated Steter Week: Season 1 rewrite





	Spark A Change

**Author's Note:**

> It's a week late but I'm disorganized so at least it's here.

Stiles’s mother had explained it to him when he was young. They were special. The Hale’s made them extra special because sharing the land with a pack increased their power. They were innate protectors and werewolves innately protected their pack so they worked well together even if they didn’t have any direct involvement with the Hales.

Stiles, young and curious and friendly enough with Cora, had asked why they weren’t more involved. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone?

Claudia had just shrugged and tucked him into bed.

“Talia is the Alpha of the Hales and she thinks it’s for the best that we’re not involved since she already has an Emissary.”

“But we’re not Emissaries. You said we’re even more special than them.”

“Oh, we are, my little Mischief, but we mustn’t fight the Hale’s. Their bond to this land is old and powerful and it gives us so much.”

“But if we were part of the pack-”

“But we don’t _need_ a pack. To have one, to have that true bond to an Alpha and a pack, it’s an amazing gift and power, but it’s not necessary. Especially if you can find someone who sings with your magic like your father does for mine.”

“Can’t I have both?”

“If you are lucky, you’ll find both.”

“I’m going to have both.” Little Stiles said determinedly, eyes bright with excited determination. Claudia smiled, kissed his forehead and left him to sleep. Things were good.

Time passed and Claudia got sick and Stiles sat by her bedside and wondered, if they were so special, why couldn’t she live? If the pack and land made them powerful why was this happening on pack lands?

It was with these thoughts Stiles ended up at the Hale house. It was only the adults at home, because Stiles hadn’t wanted the other kids to see him like this. Besides it was a formal request.

Peter Hale greeted him at the door, looking down at him bemusedly. Stiles looked back with determined eyes.

“I’m here to speak to Alpha Hale.”

Peter raised an eyebrow but let him in and took him to Talia. He then pointedly sat down while Talia’s husband excused herself to make a call. Most likely to Stiles’s dad.

“Alpha Hale,” Stiles said formally, keeping himself as steady as he could, “I’m here to formally request the bite for my mother, Claudia Stilinski. She is suffering frontal-temporal dementia, a disease for which there is no cure. She is already aware of werewolves and the expectations of pack lives.”

Talia watched him for a while before she sighed. Stiles felt his stomach drop.

“It is a lot more complicated than simply knowing things, and I’d have to ask-”

“I already did.” Stiles said, even knowing what a faux pas it was to interrupt the Alpha. “She’s only lucid sometimes and she reacts wrong to a lot of things because she doesn’t understand what’s happening sometimes. I asked when she was lucid and she said she’d accept the bite.”

“You too young to understand-”

“You’re lying.” Stiles said, careless of the fact he was interrupting again. He could feel himself shaking now and his eyes starting to sting with tears. “You’re lying. It’s not complicated you just don’t care! You won’t bite her because we’re special!”

Talia frowned at him and Stiles didn’t even glance at Peter, too busy staring down the Alpha. This was the woman his mom said gave them power. Who she told him to respect, to trust, to believe in to protect the land. Well what was she doing to protect mom?

“She was wrong.” Stiles said, staring straight into Talia’s eyes and feeling his world crumble. His mom had been wrong and the Alpha was a liar. His eyes hardened and Talia’s flickered red just for a second. “My mom was wrong about you. She said the Alpha existed to protect the pack and the land. That Alpha’s were brave and powerful and they made us better but you don’t! You’re a liar! You’re a coward! My mom’s dying and you don’t care because you don’t know anything! You’re stupid and ignorant and mean and I hate you! You don’t deserve to be an Alpha!”

Stiles turned sharply and charged out of the house, shoving passed Talia’s husband with more force than strictly necessary. He ran blindly into the trees, trying to rub the tears from his eyes. He ran as fast and as far as he could. Eventually he stumbled, grazing himself as he hit the ground. Too tired to go any further he titled his head back and screamed until he cut himself off with a sob.

He must have fallen asleep because when he came back it was to the sensation of being carried. Gentle arms holding him close to a strong chest of someone who was carrying him with ease. He was vaguely aware of being passed to his father and put in the pack of a car. He looked out the window as the car drove away and saw a black wolf with blue eyes before he drifted to sleep again.

His mom did die. After a horrifying time in Stiles’s life where he doubted everything he’d ever been told and she tried to kill him before he could kill her. He barely spoke to the Hale’s before so he doubted any of them noticed him actively avoiding them. He was busy anyway. Teaching himself how to survive with a dead mother, an absent father, a broken world view and a sudden influx of magical power.

Then the Hale house burned. Stiles felt it in his bones. He jolted off the couch where he’d been dozing. He didn’t know what was happening at the time, he just knew he could feel the connections to the land snapping. One by one. Connections lost, and Stiles didn’t know how much he really believed anymore about relying on the pack for power but God it was _awful_.

His father called the next day telling him there had been a fire and he’d be working overtime. Stiles mourned the loss of the pack’s influence over the land.

He didn’t mourn the Alpha.

* * *

Ten years passed before Stiles felt another Alpha in Beacon Hills. He’d grown and taken the responsibility of keeping the supernatural side of Beacon Hills quiet. No one would suspect the spastic, flailing kid to be involved in anything serious so the occasional omega was always surprised when he took them down with extreme prejudice.

Laura Hale had given up her connection to the land when she and Derek fled after the fire. On one hand he understood them wanting to leave, but on the other? The Hale’s had held such a powerful connection to the land and the Alpha was supposed to protect it. Instead she left a young, angry Spark and a burnt, comatose beta.

Peter Hale, despite being unresponsive, still had the Hale connection to the land and it did make Stiles more powerful having him here. Stiles didn’t visit, because he had no explainable reason and because he didn’t particularly care for Hale’s in general. He did check the bond regularly and encourage it to remain strong.

In the meantime he took care of Omega’s, a couple Fae issues, and his actual life.

Now Laura was back.

He recognised her because the land called to the Hale Alpha and him along with it. Laura didn’t know that though, she couldn’t sense it and Stiles hated her for it. They didn’t know what they were supposed to do. Useless.

He wasn’t expecting to feel her death so soon after her return.

He never would have expected it to be overshadowed by the sudden rush of power as a Hale with a connection to the land reclaimed the Alpha title. Stiles lay in bed gasping for a moment as the power rushed through him. The territory had an Alpha again. An actually, connected Alpha.

Stiles wanted it to stay that way.

His father got a call about a body in the woods. Stiles waved off his concern and, once he was gone, drove to the hospital.

It was almost insultingly easy to sneak into Peter’s room in the hospital. Stiles set a warning spell in the hallway to let him know if someone was approaching and the approached Peter. The werewolf was sat fazing the window, face blank and scarred. Apparently unchanged. Stiles turned his chair so they were facing each other.

“I know you’re aware.” Stiles said, looking him in the eyes. “I know you reclaimed the Alpha hood last night.”

There was a flicker of awareness in Peter’s eyes but no other reaction. This might be harder than he planned.

“I don’t know if you know what I am or if Talia ever spoke to you about her decision to keep my mother and me from joining the pack. I don’t know if you’re aware of the old expectations of Alphas but I have been protecting the territory with the help of your bond to the land. I plan to keep doing that and I would appreciate your help.”

A twitch of his hand and his eyes were regaining some focus.

“I’m going to try and share thoughts with you.” Stiles said, centring himself and placing his hands on either side of Peter’s temples. “If you don’t want me too just imagine a wall. I’ll back out and consider that your answer. If you let me in I can probably help you heal faster.”

Stiles closed his eyes and dived in. There was no wall, but there was fire. Fire everywhere. Smoke. Screaming. Burning flesh. It was choking him. Filling his lungs. It burned. Fire. It hurt. Everyone was screaming.

Screaming.

Choking.

Burning.

**_Mourning._ **

_A younger Stiles walked in the preserve with a heavy bag. He walked far from the regular walking trails in a place where the moon light would reach through the trees. He kneeled in the dirt and pulled his bag in front of him._

_He began pulling stones from his bag. Smooth stones he’d selected from the preserve’s river. Each one had a ragged name carved into them, the result of hard practice without a teacher. One by one he placed the stones, name up on the ground in a strange family tree so parents and siblings would still be close. He spoke each name as he put the stones down._

_The last one read Talia Hale and Stiles sneered at it, but still put it delicately in its place._

Stiles stood at the edge of the clearing, watching his younger self sit and look over his work. Peter walked up beside him but Stiles didn’t turn. The air smelt clean here, far enough from the house that the ash hadn’t reached it, and there was the scent of rain on the wind.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone so angry.” Peter said, breaking the silence. Stiles turned to look at him. Here, in their shared thoughts, Peter didn’t bear the scars of the fire. He was healthy and strong.

“While I don’t respect Talia I wasn’t going to punish her pack for it. Besides, they were connected to the land. They were taken from it, they didn’t abandon it.”

“Like Laura and Derek.”

“It’s the Alpha’s responsibility to care for the land.”

“Will you put Laura there?”

“Perhaps. If you want me to. This is your land now.”

“I was not, entirely aware when I killed her.”

“I’m not going to judge you for that, Peter.” Stiles said gently. “I don’t like that you had to kill your own blood, but I know better than anyone that you weren’t all there. I’ve been able to feel you this whole time. You’re pack bonds were shattered and you spent ten years trapped in the moment of their shattering.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.”

“I’m nice like that.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s entirely honest.” Peter turned and smirked at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied to a werewolf, would it?”

Stiles actually started. “You knew?”

“I worked it out. I doubt Talia ever did.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway.” Stiles said, shaking himself. “You’re now the Alpha of the Hale territory. What are you going to do?”

“I want to kill them.” Peter said without preamble, his features darking, warping…

“Peter!” Stiles said sharply. Peter jolted and turned his eyes back to him. Stiles met his gaze with a hard look. “It’s your right to take recompense in blood but you need to be in control. Regardless of the power you bring, a feral Alpha will only cause more damage to the territory.”

Peter stared at him for a long moment before turning to look at young Stiles again. The boy had picked up his bag and was preparing to leave.

“Will you help then?”

“If you’re willing to have me.”

“Oh, I would be _thrilled_ to have you as a member of my pack.” Peter said with a dangerous, toothy grin. Stiles grinned back, less teeth but just as dangerous.

“Then we better start making plans.”

* * *

 


End file.
